


Stupid Mistakes

by Dandy



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Stabbing, Stitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 17:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16163723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandy/pseuds/Dandy
Summary: Akechi gets hurt, and finds comfort from an unlikely source.(Written for Whumptober 2018 prompt: Stabbing)





	Stupid Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> This is more like H/C-tober.
> 
> My headcanon that I'm using here is that if a wound isn't fully treated in the Metaverse it becomes a wound in real life, so that this fic works lol.

He'd been careless, and he only had himself to blame.

It was supposed to be a simple job, this one: infiltrate the Palace of a black market dealer and gather info. He wasn't even supposed to encounter this guy's Shadow.

But he had, and now Akechi was paying for it.

This would be a lot easier if he could just kill the thing, or turn it berserk, but he was under strict orders not to, and loathe as he was to admit it, he still had to obey Shido. So instead, he had to dodge the angry monsters that had appeared to guard the main Shadow once he had unintentionally revealed his presence.

At least he'd gotten what he came for. Now all he needed was to escape – and he could see the exit just ahead. Not a flawless victory, but no one would ever know.

Akechi was still mentally praising himself when a Shadow suddenly spawned at his side, and without preamble, sank a dagger in his side.

He cursed and spun on his heel, calling on Loki in a furor. A Megaton Raid destroyed the Shadow that attacked him – a few more Megidolaons destroyed several more for good measure. He stood in the midst of Shadows being torn apart for a moment, grinning wildly and feeling much better about the situation.

The issue, of course, was that this revenge used up the last of his strength, and he was still bleeding.

With a hiss, Akechi retreated to the entrance of the Palace, digging around in his pocket for any sort of medicine. He had two drugstore painkillers left, which helped take the edge off in the Metaverse but usually weren't enough to heal a wound like this completely.

It would have to do. He'd just fix the rest up back home.

He swallowed the pills dry, then watched as the wound healed. It stopped short of closing completely – now he wouldn't bleed to death so quickly, but it would still need stitches. Good thing he picked up some more thread the other day.

His black armor closed back over the wound, and he exited the Metaverse, stumbling with less grace than he would like into the alleyway. The Palace's location was off Central Street, an antique shop that was just a front for the guy's operations. Glancing around to make sure he wasn't noticed, Akechi turned to leave.

Walking briskly was harder than he was expecting; his side stung and throbbed with each movement. The wound was worse than he thought, even after his healing efforts, and he could feel blood starting to seep into his shirt. Cursing his foolishness, he tried to find a way to hide the growing stain casually with his bag, then took a deep breath and forced himself to walk without any show of favoring his injury.

It was alright. He could make it. He just had to get to the train station, then he could find an empty car (not difficult, this time of night) and sneak back into his apartment. He could do this-

“Akechi?”

Akechi almost froze at the sound of that voice. He knew it, but... no. It couldn't be. Not _now_.

_What is he doing here!?_

“Akechi!” Hasty footsteps behind him, and suddenly there he was: Akira Kurusu, barista, interesting conversation partner, and most likely suspect for member of the Phantom Thieves. He fell into step next to Akechi, still wearing his school uniform, peering at him from behind those ridiculous glasses.

“I knew it was you.”

“Oh, Kurusu-kun. What a coincidence running into you here.” Akechi's voice strained into pleasant politeness, and he hoped that Akira was too dumb to notice. “It's quite late, isn't it?”

“I have a night job here,” he said dismissively, and for a moment Akechi was distracted from his pain to puzzle over that one. The only things down this alley were shady, disreputable shops. “How about you?”

“Oh, just... looking into something for a case.” Akechi shifted, and the pain as the fabric of his shirt rubbed against the open tear in his skin left him fighting a wince. “I'd love to chat with you awhile, but because it _is_ so late, we should probably be getting home.”

“Yeah.” Akira was still staring at him, and Akechi tensed, his reactions more volatile due to his vulnerable state. Akira so often seemed like a normal, unremarkable high school student, but Akechi knew he was far more perceptive than he appeared. Which was really not what he needed right now.

“I'm going this way too,” Akira continued, still watching him. “We can go to the train station together.”

Akechi could not let _that_ happen. He searched his mind wildly for an excuse, eyes glancing around for something to spark inspiration. Something, anything...

“Actually, I just remembered I left something back there.” He stopped, taking half a step back. “I need to go back and get it.”

Akira stopped too, turning so his eyes were still on Akechi. “Okay. I'll wait here.”

_God-damned piece of shit-_ “Thank you, but that really isn't necessary. I'd hate to hold you up.”

“It's fine.”

“I insist, Kurusu-kun.” Akechi took another step back. “Please, just- _ngh_...!”

He fought against his body, but it was too late: the pain was visible on his face for just a second, which was more than long enough.

Akira was stepping forward then, and before Akechi even knew what had happened, he pushed away his bag, revealing the blood starting to seep through to his jacket.

“You're bleeding,” he said, eyes not leaving the stain. “You've been stabbed.”

Akechi forced a mild chuckle. “Excellent work, Kurusu-kun. Perhaps they should call _you_ the Detective Prince.”

If Akira was at all fazed by that, he didn't show it, only looking back up and looping a hand lightly around Akechi's wrist. “Come on. I'm taking you to a hospital.”

No. If he went to a hospital, word would inevitably get back to Shido, and he would know of Akechi's sloppy work. And he absolutely didn't want that to happen; not because he was _scared_ of Shido, of course. But it would certainly be... inconvenient.

“That really isn't necessary,” Akechi insisted, tugging his arm away from Akira. “It looks worse than it is. I'll just patch it up when I get home.”

“You need stitches,” Akira replied bluntly, grabbing his wrist again, more firmly this time.

_Persistent little..._

The urge to yell and scream at this imbecile was strong, but Akechi had to bite it back. If he lost his cool now, it could compromise his investigation. It would compromise a lot of things; it would certainly be too awkward to go back to Leblanc after that.

It would be awkward to have any conversations with Akira after that.

So Akechi took a deep breath, and started slowly.

“If I may... can I admit something to you? It's something you can't tell anyone.”

“It's safe with me,” Akira replied, and it sounded so sincere Akechi almost wanted to believe him.

“I'm investigating something a bit dangerous. Sae-san didn't want me to, but I'm afraid I was so determined to follow this lead that I was a little reckless. If she knew about this, it would doubtless cause issues for me at work.” He sighed, putting his head down, the perfect picture of a regretful boy who made a mistake. “I know I should just tell her and take my punishment... But I found the information I needed, and I'm about to make a breakthrough! You understand, don't you, Kurusu-kun?”

Akira looked him over, but it was clear that he was buying it. He nodded after a moment.

“I get it.”

And yet, he hadn't let go of Akechi's wrist. In fact, with that, he began tugging Akechi toward the train station once again, though not very fast. Still, it was enough to make Akechi stumble in surprise.

“K-kurusu-kun? What-”

“I know someone. A doctor. She won't ask questions and she won't tell anyone.”

Akechi's eyes widened. “You know someone like that? That's... a bit shady, isn't it?”

“She's a real doctor. But she's helped me out sometimes.” He looked over, and though his tone was blunt, his eyes were... surprisingly open, and kind. “Don't you want help?”

Akechi hesitated. He could handle this himself. He always had. He would again.

But... Akira was holding his wrist, and looking at him earnestly, offering him help like no one ever had.

If he was going to be making stupid mistakes tonight, what were a few more?

“...Yes. That would be very helpful, thank you.”

* * *

“Dr. Takemi!”

For the first time since they'd made for the train station together, Akira left Akechi's side to run after a woman who had just turned out of a side alley. He'd been there, silently offering support if Akechi needed it.

He hadn't taken him up on it. He didn't need it, and anyway, it was dangerous to trust someone like that. If he came to like this boy, and he turned out to truly be a Phantom Thief after all... Well. Akechi didn't want to consider that.

Still, it had been... nice.

The woman, Dr. Takemi, stopped when she heard Akira's voice. Akechi could hear their exchange as he got closer.

“It's too late, guinea pig. Come back tomorrow.”

“It's an emergency.”

“Then go to a hospital,” she replied dryly. So far she had ignored Akechi, who forced down his indignance.

“He can't.”

“Why not?”

Akira didn't answer, but the two of them seemed to exchange words with their eyes. Akechi felt left out for a moment, but then the woman sighed, and finally looked at him.

“So you're the emergency, huh?” She lifted an eyebrow, glanced back at Akira, then nodded and started walking past them both. “Stab wound?”

“Ah, yes. It's not that deep, though...”

“I'll take care of it. Guinea pig, you'll be my assistant.”

Akechi followed them, listening with bewildered fascination.

_Guinea pig...?_

* * *

“This is going to sting. Are you sure you don't want something to numb it?”

Akechi sat on her exam table, straight as a rod while she cleaned the wound. That stung enough, but he was powering through, forcing any signs of pain off his face.

“That's alright. I'd rather just get it over with.”

“Glutton for punishment,” said Takemi, then went to get sterile thread, leaving him alone with Akira.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yes. This isn't the first time I've needed stitches.” It's just that he was normally doing them himself.

Akira just nodded, silent as Takemi returned. She came over, with surgical thread and needle, maneuvering a light so she could better see.

“Let's get it over with, then.”

It wasn't the first time he'd felt a needle piece his skin, pulling thread with it, but every time the sensation was uncomfortable. Somehow it felt even worse this time, and he gritted his teeth, his hand gripping the edge of the table so hard he got white knuckles.

“Hey.”

He gasped and looked up. Akira had suddenly appeared at his side, silent as a cat, his hand outstretched.

“Sometimes holding a hand helps,” he said, looking away and toying with his bangs with his other hand. If Akechi didn't know any better, he'd say it was almost bashful.

“No, that's alright, I- ah...” A particularly sharp tug forced a noise of pain out of his mouth, and he cursed himself. He should be able to get through this stoically, alone. He didn't need the help of this _nobody_.

But as the needle pierced him again, he realized that a small, weak part of him craved the comfort. And after a moment more of hesitation, he gave in.

Akira's hand was warm in his, and he didn't pull away, even as Akechi gripped hard and dug nails into his skin. It did feel much better than clinging to the table. It almost felt... soothing.

“Why don't you stay at my place, after this?” asked Akira suddenly, tearing his thoughts away from the pain. Akechi looked up at him, and somehow, what Takemi was doing started to fade into the background.

Had he heard that right? Was Akira inviting him to... stay with him?

“...That's... very kind of you, but I couldn't impose-”

“I just don't think you should walk all the way back like this.” He shrugged. “You can take my bed and I can crash on the couch.”

This was a bad idea. He absolutely shouldn't agree to this. He should just go home.

His eyes lingered on their hands, held between them.

If he was making stupid mistakes tonight, why not make a few more?

“...Alright. But I'll take the couch.”

Akira's eyes widened, surprised, but then he smiled, open and earnest.

“Nope. Stab victim takes the bed. It's a common rule of etiquette.”

Akechi couldn't help but grin, himself. “I've never heard that one.”

“Good thing I was here to teach you then.”

Their hands were still linked. Akira was smiling and, incredibly, Akechi was smiling too.

He didn't even notice that Takemi had already finished stitching up his wound.

**Author's Note:**

> Morgana was stunned when Akira returned home hours late from Iwai's with a frazzled looking Akechi in tow.


End file.
